


dance with me...?

by liquorisce



Series: the ice of your heart [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AruAni, Aruani Week 2014, F/M, High School AU, Old Fic, aruani ship eremika obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28342242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquorisce/pseuds/liquorisce
Summary: armin is a dense, clueless dork and annie decides to invite him to a high school party. warning: awkward flirting, baseless jealousy and mikasa being a good friend.(written for aruani week 2014, repost from tumblr)
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart
Series: the ice of your heart [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075499
Kudos: 36





	dance with me...?

There was a time Armin used to think being a cheerleader was a life of roses and sweet candy. Now, he isn’t so sure.

Sitting beside someone of that very same disposition, he looks at a paragraph in his Physics textbook for what seems to be the tenth time in a span of five minutes. He peeks out of the corner of his eye at Annie, who’s sitting patiently, waiting for him to stop fidgeting and start explaining the ever-confounding laws of thermodynamics.

“Armin,” she says sweetly, the sugar in her voice a definite cover up for sarcasm. “Some time today would be nice.” He ran a frustrated finger through his hair. He didn’t know even the library could be this distracting.

“I would love to read and explain this stuff to you, Annie, but I can’t help it if some of your _followers,”_ he emphasizes, loud enough for the follower in question to turn bright red and look away, “keep looking here.” Normally, he actually gives a damn about library rules. Today, despite the angry glare from the librarian, he doesn’t lower his volume.

Annie gives him an amused look and turns her attention to Bertholdt who, after having been caught gawking in her direction, has decided it would be less awkward to just come and speak to her instead of simply batting his eyelashes from a distance.

“Hey Annie,” he says, flashing a nervous smile. She regards him coolly, her ice blue eyes as impassive as ever. “Bertholdt.”

“You coming to Krista’s party?”

_Wait. What party?_

He sees Annie’s lack of recognition as a positive sign and (stupidly) indulges in some false hope. “There’s a Christmas party at Krista’s house day after. Do you want to go with me?”

“Oh!” Annie exclaims, feigning forgetfulness. “I completely forgot. I’m going with Armin,” she says brightly, linking her arm with that of the boy sitting right next to her. “Sorry,” she says, not looking apologetic at all.

 _You are?_ Armin wants to ask, eyes popping in surprise. He racks his brain through the archives of conversations with Annie, but he can’t remember her ever mentioning Krista’s Christmas party to him. Annie always mentioned the plethora of parties she was constantly invited to, but she always did her best to get out of them. He was pretty sure that her actually inviting him to one of these parties was the sort of thing he wouldn’t forget about.

“Right,” Bertholdt says, his voice strained. “Armin.” He graces him with a look that is barely polite, having completely ignored the blonde till now. Armin wishes he had just ignored him completely, not knowing if it was Bertholdt’s complete dismissal of him or his relentless pursuit of Annie that bothered him more. He’d like to think that it _isn’t_ the latter.

After he walks away, trying desperately not to let the sting of rejection show on his face, Armin can’t help but remark, “Since when did his voice get so squeaky?” Annie grins, Armin’s snarky side can be rather enjoyable.

“Because it certainly doesn’t sound like that when he’s discussing his freshmen exploits with Reiner.”

To this Annie guffaws so loudly, that they are promptly thrown out of the library with a chastising remark from the librarian about how she didn’t expect “this sort of behavior” from straight-A, Literary Club President Armin. Yes, he is used to being in the good books of practically everyone, but he couldn’t care less, though. A small part of him was happy that _he_ was the one making her laugh like this.

“So,” he says, breaking their comfortable silence as they walked home together. “About this party.”

“Yeah? What about it?”

 _You just said we were going to go together,_ he wants to say, but getting rather tongue-tied in front of her is something he’s getting used to these days. “When exactly were you planning to tell me about it?”

She looks a little surprised and so is he, to be honest, because that had come out a little more accusatory than he had intended. “I actually just made that up,” she admits, looking at him like he was supposed to have guessed that already. “I just really wanted to get out of going with Bertholdt.”

She watches Armin’s face fall, and she is confused because he’s never really one to be interested in parties. “We can go if you want,” she adds, hastily because he is pathetic at keeping his emotions to himself and she can’t stand him looking like that. “If you don’t have any other plans, that is.”

Truth be told, she’d rather just celebrate Christmas with him, even if it means suffering through an entire evening with Mikasa Ackerman. She has a feeling that’s how he spends most of his Christmases, with her, and she doesn’t like it.

“Not really,” he says, thinking for a moment. “I think Eren’s going to the party too.” She nods, Eren goes to most of these parties along with his Soccer teammates. As Captain, he takes his duty to socialize a little too seriously.

“But I think he’s dragging Mikasa along too, this time.”

Now _this_ was definitely a surprise. It was obvious Mikasa was completely devoted to him but Eren had never treated her as anything other than a friend. And she _always_ has better things to do than attend parties. “Are they finally dating?” she asks, unable to contain herself. She isn’t really one for gossip, but she hears so much about them from Armin, she can’t help but be a little curious.

“They’ll get there soon, I hope,” he says wearily, shaking his head with frustration. It’s hard when both your best friends are being complete blockheads when it comes to their feelings for each other. “Is that what it means though?” he asks curiously, “that you’re dating if you go to one of these parties together?” _Is that why Bertholdt keeps asking you to go with him?_

She wants to laugh, because he really is cute sometimes with his complete cluelessness when it comes to social protocol, but that question makes her a little nervous. She _did_ just ask him to the party after all.

She just shrugs, non-committal, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks. “Since when did you care so much for parties?” she asks lightly, trying to make it less awkward but accomplishing the opposite.

“Since you said you were going with me,” he blurts out and the words just hang there, no matter how much he wants to grab them and stuff them back in his mouth. She just stares at him, a strange look in her eyes and he doesn’t want to be just _another one of her followers,_ so he manages a smile and waves goodbye.

As she unlocks the door to her house, she can’t help but feel the tiniest of smiles creeping onto her face. Armin never says things like that. Was that supposed to mean he wanted to spend Christmas with her too?

_We could go as friends._

Ugh. She wanted to hit herself for saying that. She had come to the conclusion that she wanted to be much, _much_ more than just friends ages ago, but she wasn’t really sure of what Armin thought of her. Sure they were friends. It had started out slow enough, with him teaching her physics once every week. It wasn’t until she had started craving his company every day, that she realized just how much she had fallen for that shy smile.

Well she had made her move. Now, it was his turn.

..

Upon Eren’s insistence, he had decided against his idea to get a haircut; “Your nerdy look suits you Armin,” he had said and he could kind of see his point, there was no point getting a drastic makeover for some stupid party.

But the nearer he got to her house, the more he started to feel that it wasn’t really just ‘some stupid party’ but the first time he would actually be _going out_ with Annie. Hands shaking as he rings the bell, he mutters, “She said we’re just going as friends, so there’s no pressure.”

Who was he kidding? It’s been months since he’s though of Annie as _just_ a friend.

The door swings open and he is instantly relieved to find her standing in her usual attire of just a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. “Hey,” she says, gesturing for him to come inside. “You’re here early.”

He checks his watch. 6.45 p.m. “Um, didn’t they ask us to come by 7?”

She smirks. “Armin, no one _ever_ goes to these things on time.”

Confused, because he doesn’t understand the point of stating a time when you’re not going to keep to it, he just decides not to dwell on it because she’s bound to know about these things better.

She hands him a plate of noodles as he sits on her bed. “You should eat up before we get there,” she says, answering the question in his eyes.

“It’s a party. Doesn’t that mean there’ll be food?”

This time she just laughs, there is no way someone in their final year of high school can know this little about what went on at these parties.

He frowns, twisting the fork into the noodles as he watches her rummage through her closet. He didn’t want her to change, he was actually quite fond of the little denim shorts she spent most of her time in.

“So what are these parties even like?” he asks, catching the pair of black jeans that she throws at him as she enters the bathroom to change.

“Lots of alcohol,” she says, voice echoing from the bathroom, “and it Krista’s party so Ymir will be there. So some weed too. Possibly.”

He gulps, wondering if he should tell Annie that their Christmases usually just consisted of Mikasa baking her famous Banana Walnut Cake and his Grandpa giving them some of his homemade wine. Eren usually joins them just before midnight after having gone to a friend’s party. Now when he thinks about it, it’s a wonder that Eren actually comes back home sober.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, retrieving her jeans from him. “We don’t have to do any of that stuff.” He looks at her, now wearing a shiny red halter top and… no pants.

He almost chokes on his food, standing up in a hurry and knocking into her head, he didn’t know she was still getting dressed!

“Ow,” she says, rubbing her head gingerly. “What’s wrong with you?!”

“I’m so sorry,” he exclaims, squeezing his eyes shut, “you didn’t tell me…”

She looks down, realizing what he’s freaking out so much for. She chuckles, she’s gotten so used to wearing such short clothing for her cheer routines that it wasn’t really such a big deal for her. She looks up at him, barely an inch away from her, looking so incredibly cute, the embarrassed blush spread over his cheeks and she can’t help it; she reaches up and places a soft kiss on his lips.

His eyes fly open in surprise, but before he can get used to the mind-numbing sensation of having her lips on his, they’re gone and he’s left catching his own labored breath.

She doesn’t say anything after that, but he’s pretty sure he can see a small smile playing out on her lips as she shimmies into her jeans.

..

The party seems to be exactly as she promised it would be and after surviving three hours in this covert of smoke, drugs and alcohol, Armin’s patience was growing thin. He watches Annie maneuver through the crowd, smiling just the right amount at everyone who stops to say hello, as she fetches their 4th round of beer.

He’s thankful he has Mikasa for company though, looking just plain bored while Eren is high-fiving and laughing or whatever with the other guys from his team. Mikasa is mostly happy to watch Eren in his natural habitat, so he’s glad when Annie returns in less than two minutes.

“Hey,” he says, smiling at her, “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t be able to make it back.”

She takes a swig of her beer. “Sorry Armin,” she says, “If it weren’t for my actual love of cheerleading, I wouldn’t even bother with these people.” He knew she was right. The only reason she had even joined the squad was because this school didn’t offer gymnastics.

Annie is a bundle of surprises today, he notes, not only is she actually smiling so much, fake though it may be, she’s even getting along with Mikasa. Not to mention the kiss, he thinks, mind fuzzing up from the very thought, and he wonders when they’re actually going to talk about it.

“Annie,” says a voice from behind, and she turns around to find Bertholdt walking towards her. His voice is markedly less squeaky today, no doubt emboldened by all the alcohol, Armin thinks, petulantly.

“You look amazing,” he says, and when he sees the blush on Annie’s face Armin realizes that _this_ is how you play your cards right. “Do you want to dance?”

Annie looks at Armin, searching for a hint, an inkling, anything really for him to tell her not to go. But instead he just smiles, and for the first time that smile infuriates her. “Sure,” she says, smiling sweetly at him and heading to the makeshift dance floor.

Armin just watches as she moves along with him, the red fabric of her halter dipping low on her back where Bertholdt’s hand now rested.

“How are some people just so _smooth,_ ” he complains to Mikasa, resting his arms on the railings of the balcony. 

“He’s not smooth, you’re just stupid,” she states matter-of-factly. “I haven’t seen anyone ignore _these_ many signals in one night, _ever._ Not even in those stupid sitcoms Eren watches.”

“What? What are these signals you speak of?” He sure hadn’t noticed anything. “She looked like she was asking me if it was okay to dance”- Mikasa cut him off with a loud whack on his head.

“Armin, you moron, she was asking you to _stop_ her.”

..

“I should get to back to Armin,” she tells Bertholdt, as the song is about to finish. She feels a little guilty about storming off like that, because she’s pretty sure Armin genuinely didn’t know what he had done wrong.

 _“_ One more dance?” he asks, standing a little closer than she would have liked; she can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Don’t worry, he seems to be enjoying himself.”

True enough, she turns to see Armin and Mikasa standing together in the balcony, evidently in deep discussion about something. When she sees him whack her head playfully, it’s enough for Annie to see red.

“Yeah, why not?” she says, turning back to the dance floor, wondering why she even bothers.

..

Armin catches Annie alone some time later; the music finally starting to wind down.

“Hey stranger,” he says lightly, “I didn’t know you could dance like that.”

“I’m a cheerleader,” she retorts. “This is pretty much what we do.” She was snapping at him and making statements that made no sense but she didn’t care. “Where’s Mikasa? You guys seemed to be having a swell little time together.”

Armin was taken aback. He’d never been on the receiving end of Annie’s biting remarks before. He pulled her into the balcony, where it was quieter. “Annie, what’s wrong?”

She was this close to exploding, how could he be this blind? She had given him all the signs. She had even _kissed_ him for God’s sake. “I just wanted to spend Christmas Eve together,” she says, her anger fading into resignation.

Mikasa was right; he is definitely the stupidest guy on the planet. “You need to grow some balls, Armin,” she had said, and crude as it was, he was going to take that advice.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled her to him, holding her with her head tucked under his chin. “Well, that makes the two of us,” he murmurs. He looked down at her, her blue eyes wrought with frustration.

“You kissed me,” he says, and he’s shaking on the inside but he doesn’t let it show. “I’m a few hours late, but I’m going to kiss you back,” he whispers, not sure if it’s a question or a statement. She doesn’t say anything, just stares up at him, her gaze dumbfounded, like she can’t believe her ears.

He can’t blame her, he can barely believe it himself.

He leans down, hoping desperately that her silence implies consent, and places kisses her tentatively, his mouth soft and warm against hers. It’s ridiculous how long he’s waited to do this, but it doesn’t matter now because she is kissing him back, her small lips eager and impatient under his. He chuckles softly; who knew Annie could be so demanding?

She tugs at his lower lip, deepening the kiss, her hands reaching up instinctively to tangle in his golden mess of hair. “Hey,” he says, trying to break away and grinning when she lets out a little whine in complaint. “Dance with me.”

She groans, dance is definitely the last thing on her mind. She’d rather do this, whatever _this_ is, this wonderful mess of kisses and touches that she has just discovered Armin is so good at.

“Sure,” she says, her voice low and teasing, eyes bright with an idea. “Let’s dance,” she murmurs, bringing her lips back up to his.

“Back at my place.”


End file.
